


Hey, Help Me Out?

by septembergem



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Memory Alteration, Memory Loss, Multi, Rehabilitation, Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-23
Updated: 2015-07-27
Packaged: 2018-04-10 19:05:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4403651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/septembergem/pseuds/septembergem
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"No - I am Iron Man, I don't need help from America's Sweetheart in spandex, thanks."</p><p>"Don't think of it as me helping you. Think of it as you saving me. I know how much you love a good boost to your ego."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Introduction

_“You should be more like Steve Rogers – that was a man and a half, most literally and figuratively. You’re just a disappointment.”_

The words rolled in his head, bouncing and boiling and that name, that _name_. It was a pit in his stomach, a thorn in his side, and anger quickly boiled in his heart. _Steve Rogers. Why couldn’t he be more like Steve Rogers._

He opened his eyes. And closed them. And opened them again. What? Was he blind? No. A light – blinking to his left. And another. Green and red. On, off, on, off. Where was he? Why was it so dark?

His hands – they were tied. And his feet. And his torso – his bare chest and the cold metal… where the _hell_ was he?

Yellow fluorescent lights blinded him – spots, white, that’s all he saw. He blinked, squinting to see the face, no, faces. Multiple. Three. Who?

“Mr. Stark. How nice to see you’re awake.”

A scream tore from his throat. 

 

 


	2. Where the Hell is Iron Man?

Avengers Tower was uncharacteristically quiet. Natasha didn't like it.

She sipped her coffee, seated at a barstool in the kitchen. It was early, but not unbearably so; the sun filtered in through the massive windows surrounding the tower. She was not the only one awake - there was quiet movement in the labs below her. But she was the only one that presented in the main living area.

It wasn't the sleeping tower around her that unnerved her, however. It was the lack of Tony Stark in her face. She knew that he had been sent on a recon mission in some remote part of Asia, which wasn't abnormal. And she knew he could take care of himself. But something wasn't right.

Tony had left on Thursday of the previous week. It was now Saturday - a full eight days had passed, going on nine. If Tony didn't return today, she'd have to step up and find him herself.

Feet padded down the stairs, socks on tile. Sounded like-

"Morning, Nat." Steve said, cracking his neck and yawning. "Awfully quiet down here."

She took another coffee sip, pointing to the pot. "Help yourself."

Steve obliged, pouring himself a cup. 

And one by one, people appeared. Clint, then Thor, and Bruce from the lab. Bucky was last, having slept off some of the medication he was on. And even with six people in the room, it still felt empty. 

"Tony should be back by now." Natasha spoke up, voicing her thoughts. Clint had a look on his face that said he was thinking the same. 

"He's strong - even if he did get held up a bit, no doubt he got through it." Steve said. But his eyebrows were drawn together, thinking. 

"Steve's right." Bruce added. And he at least seemed confident in Tony Stark's abilities, so the team tried to take a collective breath and push it out of their minds for the time being. 

\---

The day passed, and the sun sat low on the horizon. The skyline of New York reflected the light as people shifted from day to night. Natasha sat in an overstuffed armchair, blanket around her shoulders, mug of hot chocolate in her hands. Her fingers ticked on the ceramic of the cup, her eyes calculating and staring far off. 

Clint sat across from her on a couch that matched her chair with a book in his hands. He sat on two pillows, legs crossed, balancing on the cushions. It was quiet, but not unsettlingly so. 

"He's still not back."

Clint didn't look up from his book, but rather nodded. The topic hadn't been verbally brought up all day, but you could see the thought on the minds of teammates. Coulson had even been called, but had only given reassuring words and a promise that if Tony didn't return by midday tomorrow, he'd let them go find him. 

Natasha volunteered to go, since it was her original concern and she felt responsible for bringing the idiot back. And Steve volunteered, not only because of his immense righteousness and patriotic dignity (as Clint so kindly put it) but because he felt like Natasha needed backup that could help anticipate Tony's whereabouts. 

The fact that Tony, the God of tech, wasn't receiving any of their signals through the wiring he insisted on taking was upsetting as well. I mean seriously, an entire group of superheroes couldn't even get through to his phone?

So as she sat in her chair, with her blanket and mug of chocolate, Natasha mapped out the plans for tomorrow. Because she knew that Tony Stark wouldn't be coming back that evening. 

\---

Fury stared at the two of them, first at Cap, then at Natasha. He nodded once, a quick jerk of his head to signal his recognition. 

"Good luck."

They turned to go, but Fury halted them.

"And do me a favor - bring that bastard home in one piece."

Steve gave a tight smile. "No guarantees."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I know, it's still really short and not really worth much but I'm just easing into this fic so bear with me pleaseee ~


	3. Hands Off

The familiarity of being on a mission with Natasha was somehow comforting. Memories of their previous endeavor to end the Winter Soldier played softly in the back of his mind. This mission was one of an entirely different caliber. 

The journey to their current locations (wherever the hell that happened to be) was a quiet one not filled with witty banter or side smirks. The air was tense with a host of emotions that neither agent cared to voice, because this was a mission focussed on one thing - Tony Stark. Many missions in the past had been led by, or perhaps arranged by is the better term, by the genius, but none had become a rescue of the man. The mere idea was preposterous as it seemed the idiot could work his way out of any situation, harmed or unharmed. So the mission itself set both agents on edge. 

The relationship with Tony Stark varied among team members. To Bruce, a friend. A brother, if one could go to stretch it that far. To Clint, a wingman. A friend. Their sarcasm was often appreciated only by the opposite. To Bucky, Tony was the man that thawed his best friend. So he trusted the eccentric man that closely resembled an old friend of his from the past. Thor had taken the role of being a brother to everyone on the team, whether they wanted him there or not. Natasha - well, none of her relationships were very clear. But it almost seemed like not just Tony, but the entire team had been taken under her wing as a caregiver and scolder, when needs presented themselves. As long as you didn't say it around Natasha, the word 'mother' did come to mind. A very kick-ass mother with a frightening assortment of weapons. Make sure you make your bed and do your chores, kids.  

Steve Rogers and Tony Stark's relationship was one even more elusive than Natasha's. It seemed that the two hated each other, hated the snark and the regality, the sarcasm and ridiculing. But no one could deny a better force on the battlefield besides perhaps Clint and Natasha as a pair. No one could deny the complete trust given by one to the other. And of course, no one could deny that there was some kind of emotion, be it friendship or some form of love on any spectrum, was hidden. You just had to look hard enough to see it. 

These sort of thoughts and many others passed through the minds of Natasha and Steve as they neared a building, hidden in shadows like all those around it. The moon reflected white light off of the tall windows with cracked shutters and steel frames. Not a soul stood outside or anywhere around them, for that matter. Each tightened their grip on whatever they happened to be holding. 

A door, and another, a hallway with men walking, shoes clacking. A new hallway with stretchers, and carts, and tables topped with vials of assorted liquids. A door. 

And screaming - muffled, painful screaming that took shape as a monster, clawing through the cracks in the door, trying to get out. Fighting to get away. Screams that tore through the agents and broke down the door with a swift kick. 

The sight in front of Cap was sickeningly familiar, and the shots that rang out were quick and without waver. Natasha pushed her partner, shaking him from a stare into nothingness. "Grab Stark - quickly, I'll stay at the door." She pushed him again. 

Cap did as he was told. He stopped staring at the cold walls, and the cold floor, and the cold chair reclined with Tony Stark, strapped into it. He stopped staring at the vials of liquid, of serums and lies and false informations that were connected to his teammates arms. He stopped staring at Tony, eyes bloodshot and sunken and face pale and beaded with sweat, and lips chapped and bleeding, teeth smeared with red. 

His hand flew over the cords and cables and metal bars that had dug into the man's skin, leaving cuts and gashes and red. He ripped the restraints and removed the needles and -

 ** _bam_** -

"Get off me!"

Tony pushed off of Steve, who was in the process of picking him up. Steve rubbed his jaw, not effected by the pain, but by the surprise. Tony shook his fist, eyes alight, voice haggard. 

"Stay away from me, I'll -" his eyes darted around, quick and scared. He grabbed a syringe. "I'll hurt you."

Steve blinked. "Tony, come on, we're getting you out of here, Natasha and I..." he took another step towards the man, who kept backing up in the chair. 

"No, you filthy-" he threw the syringe at Steve, who flicked it away. "Rotten-" he picked up another, threw it. "Son of a-" Steve flicked. " _Bitch_!"

"Steve, you'd better tell me you've got Stark over your shoulder now..." the echoing of bullets that had monotonously been in Steve's head started to grow sporadic, interspersed. 

"We've got issues. But I'm there." without a falter, Steve shot forward lightning fast, grabbing Tony around the waist and hoisting him over his shoulder, stepping to get to his counterpart. Tony, too weak to put up any kind of fight, opted for screaming in raw tones, his voice completely spent. He beat Steve's back, squirmed and squirming, but even when Tony was at full health, Steve was much stronger than him. They fled the building fairly unscathed, catching a helicopter and strapping the manic Tony Stark into a harness. 

As soon as Tony had seen Natasha, he had started calling to her. "Nat, Nat! Get Steve off me right now, get him away. Give me my suit, Nat, I need my suit. We can take him down together, Nat, you and me, teammates, right? Get him off me!" he struggled to catch her eye. Natasha did not turn around. Instead, as the helicopter took to the air, she frowned. Steve put his head in his hands. 

"It was too easy."

"What did they do to him?"

They each spoke at the same time. It was quiet then, except for the dirty remarks about Steve coming from Tony - insults, jabs, thing far worse than the meaningless banter they normally exchanged. He cursed, and cursed him, and Bucky, and Peggy, and anyone he could think of relating to Captain Steve Rogers. Steve only stared out the window and held his breath. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really suck at creating drama I apologize

**Author's Note:**

> A story I've been planning for a while - updates are common for weekends, as school is eating up a lot of time - bear with me! 
> 
> I LOVE YOU


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